


Water and Wine

by daalny



Series: Life [1]
Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daalny/pseuds/daalny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bonds that form after Francie's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Water

It was his turn he was told. Hammond had done the underwater car escape. Jeremy had sort of done the drowning in the Reliant Robin and the swimming in the Sea of Galilee. The channel crossing didn’t count neither did Vietnam, since all of them had been in the ocean. It was James’ May’s turn at water on Top Gear. It was obvious to the other two presenters that this was a bad idea but Andy seemed keen on it. He was sure that James had a better shot of connecting with the audience for the segment and that was that. Also James had sailing experience he could handle a boat properly. However, the storyboarding seemed more like a retelling of the _Mary Celeste_. 

“Health and safety have rated this pretty safe, besides he still has his certs from the Caribbean” The producer had stated. 

The three men around the table exchanged looks as Andy pushed back in his chair before leaving the conference room. No one spoke, Richard drummed his fingers before announcing, “Anyone for tea?”

“Me!” Clarkson blasted.

“Please, Hammo” May replied. The youngest of the men left to procure the beverages.

“Mate, you all right?” Clarkson asked softly.

May shook his head, “it does look brilliant on paper, and it’s not like I can’t swim it’s just…I’m not

 _Strong_ Clarkson’s mind filled in. James May wasn’t afraid of water but he knew his limits and while he could swim to save his life if need be but he was always the first to have a life jacket. Jeremy on the other hand was extremely comfortable in water. Perhaps this one time he could help.

“Look, this proposed shoot is six weeks out. You’re coming out this weekend any way and I have an idea.”

James rolled his eyes in mock annoyance but Jeremy simply raised his eyebrows, “Seriously I think I can help, in fact I know I can.” James didn’t seem to be buying it so Jeremy added “I’ll buy you some wine!”

“All right”

He was awake but didn’t know why, when the shrill tone of his mobile pierced the air again he snagged the dark red piece of plastic.

‘Ello” He answered somewhat blearily.

_Uncle James_

The fog lifted from his brain in an instant he swung back the covers and sat up, “Emily? What’s the matter?”

_Dad is being strange. I heard him crying and…and…can you please come?_

James was already pulling on jeans and grabbing his well worn rugby shirt. He swiped the keys to his panda up from the hook near the door. He fired up the engine and allowed the phone to communicate to the Bluetooth in his car. Soon Emily’s voice filled the cabin. Through her phone she could hear the engine noise and the hypnotic rushing of air which signaled that James was underway, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“What’s been going on Em?”

_Everything was fine. We we’re all having dinner, Fin cooked. You know he took cookery as a joke but he’s really good. After dinner Dad was in the fridge then he got weird. Fin and Katya went to bed; I pretended to go to bed. I could hear him in the kitchen and I could tell he was crying. He went out to the garage, the lights are on and he hasn’t come out._

”Where are you now?”

 _I’m in the front room, looking out at the garage!_

”Just stay on the sofa, I have my key and I’m coming be about 90 minutes.”

_Ok, Ok, I’m just… I haven’t seen him like this since well…_

When she had trailed off James knew to when she was referring. The past 18 months had been a tragic series of events for the Clarkson household. The first being the deaths of Shirley and Eddie Clarkson—Jeremy’s parents. The Honda, which Jeremy had purchased for them, had been struck by a drunk driver. His father had died instantly, his mother died in hospital days later. The driver of the other car had also been killed. More tragedy followed, in the few weeks after the burial France, started complaining of headaches. The doctors had dismissed them as stress as did she. However, when one morning she had blurred vision Jeremy had driven her himself to A&E where a scan revealed an aneurysm. The doctors were actually quite hopeful, the dilated artery could easily be clipped by a neurosurgeon and it was. Three months had passed and her hair was long enough to dislodge wigs, her fatigue was abating. Never the less she still took naps to regain strength. It just so happened on a Thursday she didn’t wake up from her nap. That was when James had seen a side to Jeremy he had never witnessed.

_He had come when Jeremy had called, he hadn’t understood the words Jeremy was mumbling but the wailing of Katya in the background had him on edge. Jeremy kept saying, “She’s gone” that coupled with the mournful wail of “mummy” from Katya had James speeding to be with his friend. That following weekend was a blur. The Hammond’s had traveled from Wales, to support in what why they could. Mindy had cooked up a storm and there were labeled meals in the fridge. France’s parents had telephoned Jeremy to finalize the arrangements before they traveled for the internment. The day of her burial it rained, James had stood near his friend holding a large umbrella trying to give some protection from the elements to Jeremy. The older man ignored the gesture and stood in the rain._

_The family home in Chipping Norton held the wake and Richard did his part by redirecting those wanting to give condolences. Jeremy nodded at Hammond in thanks for allowing him some peace. James had stayed after to clean up the mess since Jeremy had dismissed the cleaning crew._

_It was three in the morning and the children had gone to sleep, some with the aid of the sedatives the doctors had provided. Jeremy had been given a bottle, the contents of which he had flushed down the bog. Tablets be damned he would stay awake forever. James had finished the washing up he had been at it for about 2 and half hours. His shoulders were sore but he quickly dulled the pain by taking a swig of whiskey. It was well into the morning and the house was quiet. With the children tucked away he went in search of his friend. He found him in the garage in an old red Mercedes, a 1959 190SL to be exact. He had never seen Jeremy drive this particular car then it hit him this one was Francie’s. He moved purposefully to the passenger side and opened the door. Jeremy was shoved into what passed for the backseat._

_“Why are you crammed in the back?”_

_“Didn’t want to move her seat, it’s in the position she likes—reach the pedals.”_

_James swallowed, “You should come inside.”_

_“The house doesn’t smell like her, this does. Sheets were changed since she died on them. Plus she always put her towels in the hamper after she used them. I always teased her that she was having an affair with you, that your OCD rubbed off on her.”_

_James chuckled weakly and so did Jeremy, but quickly the soft chuckles were replaced with deep heaving sobs. James had seen Jeremy cry twice the first being the arctic and those tears were shed out of frustration and sleep deprivation. Jeremy’s eyes had simply spilled over as he drove and he never made a sound. The second time was again in a sleep-deprived state after the BMW had made it 24 hours. Those tear were shed in joy and were happily wiped away. These tears fell rapidly and the sounds coming from his chest were only made from one suffering a deep emotional pain. James had scrambled into the back to hold Jeremy; he didn’t comfort him with platitudes of Bullshit. He didn’t say, “It will be all right” he just held him until he could maneuver them out of the car and back into the house._

_During the weeks that followed, James stayed at Chipping Norton. The guest bedroom became Uncle James’ room and the children got used to his presence._

_Most nights Jeremy was found in the back of the Mercedes. He would put down the top so he could fit. James would check on him through the door, mostly the widower would talk as if Francie was in the car. He would talk about the days events. What they had eaten, the fights that Emily was getting into at school, how Finlo had had disappeared into the surrounding wood and how he and James had to go find him. It was during these times that James wished he could take away Jeremy’s pain. James was the caretaker of the three, staying to help with the GT. He took Willow and Izzy to parks so Mindy and Richard could heal. He often cooked while filming was going on. While he was no gourmet he could follow a recipe and his food was a damn sight better than anything the other two could make._

_The past six months had been relatively normal. The Clarkson brood was back in school. New routines were being established. James had even begun spending more time at his home in Hammersmith instead of the Cotswolds._

Almost missing his exit had James snapping back to the present. He got onto the A road and soon he was at Chipping Norton. James exited his Panda and shivered in the chilled air. He found the front door locked so he quickly remedied that with his key. Emily had fallen asleep on the large leather sofa in the entryway. He leaned over her and removed her mobile from her hand before snagging the throw laying haphazardly on the sofa arm and covering her with it.

James braced himself before going back out into the cold. His footsteps trudged loudly in gravel as he made his way to the garage. James held his breath allowing him to stretch his hearing, so far so good no engines were running. Inside he found the garage quiet but lit. He knew exactly were Jeremy was, the Red Mercedes.

”Jezza, you comfy?” James knew it was a rubbish statement but he had no clue what else to say. 

Jeremy shot him a dirty look and merely took a swig from the wine bottle. “Do you know what this is?” Jeremy hissed as he thrust the now empty bottle at James’ face.

James calmly took the bottle and read the label “Gewürztraminer” he said calmly and perfectly accented. In Jeremy’s mind he could practically hear the umlauts. 

“I always bought a bottle of this wine, her favourite—I personally can’t stand it!” At his admission he dissolved into sobs again. James allowed him a brief moment of grief before roughly pulling him out of the car.

James knew that Jeremy was in a bad place and he knew it was his job to get him to a better one for his children. He used his most commanding voice and laced it with a touch of menace. “Get moving Clarkson.”

His words had the desired effect, Jeremy got out of the Mercedes and the left the garage. When Jeremy stalled James repeated his command this time it had the anticipated side effect. Jeremy fought against James, and shouted, “Why the fuck are you here?”

”Emily phoned me she was worried, so I came” James stated.

For some reason this seemed to enrage Jeremy he lunged at James his hand ineffectually trying to claw his face. Reacting on instinct James turned to dodge the hand and landed a blow with his elbow to Jeremy’s gut. The reaction was immediate; the taller man doubled over and vomited on the gravel. Jeremy seemed to forget about his fight with James and was easily led into the house.

While Jeremy was somewhat more cooperative he was far from quiet. Upon entering the house Emily awoke.

”Uncle James? Dad?”

James told her softly, “I’m here now…go to bed.”

Jeremy grunted in the affirmative and Emily complied. James watched with envy as she negotiated the stairs. He had no clue if he was going to be able to meander up them that well with a six foot five drunk. Mercifully they made it to Jeremy’s bedroom. James shoved him onto the bed and unbuttoned his shirt. He was doubtful the man would care if he slept in a shirt stained with his own vomit but James cared. Moving quickly he yanked open the walk-in wardrobe, the area seemed larger since Francie’s clothes had been removed. A drawer was opened a T-shirt was found along with some sleep bottoms. Soon Jeremy was clad in clean clothes and final shove from James had him sprawled on the bed. Hopefully most of the booze had left his system with the puking episode on the drive nonetheless James grabbed a metal wastepaper basket and placed it next to the bed. 

James left the master bedroom and turned down the hall to the next door, his room as it had been dubbed. He had clothing stashed here but could care less about nightclothes kicking off his shoes he simply lay on top of the covers. 

James had not bothered to draw the curtains so the morning light had no filter. The soft pale light of dawn had woken him. He lay still until he heard the sound of water traveling through pipes. He pushed off the bed and went to Jeremy’s room. He found the man with his head in the sink rinsing his mouth out with the tap.

James stood in the doorway to the bathroom, keeping his distance yet Jeremy could see him in the mirror. He spoke to the reflection, “I want to say ‘I’m sorry’ but I think you and I both know that I really don’t really mean it.” James turned to leave and Jeremy punched the countertop, “shit, that’s not what I meant.” James watched as he took a measured breath, was it to quell nausea or to summon courage? Jeremy met his eyes in the mirror before turning to actually face James, “Thank you, you came for Emily and me…I’m fucking grateful.”

Of all the things James expecting him to say this was not one of them. In the past 18 months it had gone unspoken. This was the first time and perhaps the only time that Jeremy Clarkson would say these words with sincerity. James nodded before waving his hand in a polite dismissal. “Clean up, I’m going to make coffee.”

The Clarkson household woke in stages: Emily, Kayta then Fin. Emily was visibly relieved to see her father in a sobered state. She went up to her father and pulled down on his shoulder so she could kiss his cheek. Next she blew a kiss to James who blushed. She helped herself to coffee while Jeremy went about the makings of breakfast. Fin and Katya were delighted to see their “Uncle”. 

“Hello Uncle James what we going to do this weekend?” Katya asked bright eyed.

Jeremy answered, “We’ll be going to the pool.” The younger members of the household sucked in breaths of anticipation. James worked his jaw, “I don’t have my things” he mumbled.

Fin’s face contorted in an exact match of his fathers, “You knew you were coming and you forgot your stuff? What time did you get in anyway?”

James shot a look at Jeremy but luckily Emily intervened, “You know Uncle James he always forgets something. Besides he probably thought his things were here. His shirts have wound up in my wardrobe often enough.”

Jeremy shot his daughter a look of gratitude. His drunken night would be a secret between himself, James and her. The gratitude morphed into annoyance when Emily simply announced, “We’ll just go shopping.”

Jeremy’s annoyance was James’ salvation while he loathed shopping he loathed the idea of the pool even more. James slipped her twenty quid while they were at the shopping center before he begrudgingly bought a pair of dark blue trunks and surrendered himself to the rest of the afternoon.

“I thought it would be at capacity” James said.

“This is the open-air pool, there is a new indoor one built about a year ago. We can have this one pretty much to ourselves.” Jeremy said offhand.

James watched in envy as the three younger Clarksons merely threw caution to the wind and dove in. Jeremy stood next to James and spoke softly, “I know you’ve said that you’re not but now isn’t the time to piss about. Are you afraid of water?"”

"No, it’s just I’m not a good swimmer.”

Clarkson took pity on his friend and entered the pool via the ladder he then motioned for James to follow. To his great relief James found the pool heated. Jeremy walked from the shallow end into the deep. James followed and when the tips of his toes could no longer keep his head above water he began to tread. Jeremy had been waiting for this he dove down and viewed the scene. James’ legs were beating in time and when Jeremy surfaced he saw no problems. So Mr. May could stay afloat and tread. Jeremy then moved to the far end of the pool, “All right May swim towards me.”

James began moving and Jeremy saw the problem immediately, instead of moving horizontally across the water James’ legs were down below the water line. He had to work harder to move forward. Jeremy was also certain that whoever had taught James to swim, as a child had never taught him the correct way to breathe.

When James reached the wall Jeremy was waiting, “I think I’ve sussed it mate. Tell me, when you learned to swim how did they get you comfortable with your face being in the water?”

James’ confusion was all the answer Jeremy needed—they hadn’t. Between them they moved back to the shallow end. The older man then gave his assessment. “You don’t put your face in the water so you’re not completely horizontal. Your body is working harder at moving. You’re getting tired easily, which gives the impression that you’re weak.”

James pushed his wet hair out from his eyes, “What now then?”

“Practice” Jeremy had stated.

For the next half hour Jeremy had James performing a drill. He would float on his back and then roll over to stick his face in the water and breath out before turning face up again. This was to get him used to water going up his nose and into his ears before breathing out into the water. When the children began complaining of pruned fingers it was time to leave. They clambered out of the pool and rinsed off in the showers.

“Why can’t you swim well Uncle James?” Katya had asked from her seat in the Land Rover.

“I wasn’t taught properly.” He answered back.

“Why does it matter?” Fin shouted from the back.

James turned around from the passenger seat to address the back, “This series of Top Gear is going to focus a bit on aquatic vessels kind of like an underwater motorbike. What they want is me jumping from a sailing boat and swimming towards these vehicles. You’ve read about ghost ships? What would have happened if the Mary Celeste had access to these things?” James shook his head before ploughing on, “I have no clue why they want it filmed this way when a cut scene would do but I’m not a director.” 

“Would be cooler if you jumped off the sailboat with the motorbike thing!” Fin muttered to which Katya and Emily readily agreed. This began the three of them describing explosions and sequences from Bond movies. Jeremy chuckled from the drivers seat and they drove home.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful, no fits of sorrow. Jeremy seemed to have recovered from his meltdown. As Sunday evening approached James packed his Panda. “James, next weekend I’ll teach you some strokes but you have to practice them. I’ll swim with you if you like, exercise can be tedious by yourself.”

James moved his head in a neutral non-committal way. Jeremy watched as his friend got into his car and drove back to Hammersmith. James did indeed practice the technique Jeremy had shown him. He had never really put together the dots that his face and water didn’t mix. He was always in a life-jacket and when he fell had to swim to the bar in Vietnam he spent most of the time floating on his back. That night he ran a bath, he took a deep breath and thought of his friend, the then submerged his head. All he could hear was the thundering of his blood.

Weeks passed and James diligently swam with Jeremy either at the pool in Chipping Norton or at the facilities provided by the BBC. Richard would laugh at them as he watched from the bicycling area. James could now swim with his face in the water without help. The shaft of a pool net had been employed to nudge the back of James’ head. Years of habit had his head rising which invariably pulled his feet down. Jeremy had spent the lessons walking up and down the side of the pool with the net giving James pokes whenever his head would rise. It took a while but James had managed to keep his face in the water. Now he could swim more manageably. In two weeks filming for this segment would begin and James was grateful to Jeremy that we wouldn’t look a complete twat on camera. As the two showered in the locker room something crossed James’ mind. Next week would have been Jeremy’s wedding anniversary. He wondered if it was on Jeremy’s mind but had no clue how to approach it. As he drove through London he stopped at a small shop. That night Richard phoned

_Mate I hope you don’t mind but I’m taking Jeremy to lunch tomorrow. Just him and me it’s nothing to do with you. I mean…_

James was smirking at his friends flub, “I understand the wedding anniversary.” 

Jeremy was quieter on Wednesday and many gave him a wide berth. Richard didn’t bother with small talk. “Are you and kids all right today?”

Jeremy sighed, “Kids are, I don’t think they really paid attention to our anniversary. Not like we made them. They’ve handled things well and if they don’t want to talk to me they talk to James.”

Richard remembered what Mindy had told him about how both Jeremy and James would check on her and him in hospital, “He’s a good mate”

”Very good mate” Jeremy acknowledged and Richard saw that there was something deeper. He took a sip of water and asked, “What are you going to do tonight?” 

“Whatever the children want to do then I might crack open a beer and flip through the album, sounds silly doesn’t it.” 

“Doesn’t sound silly at all mate.” Richard said around the lump in his throat. He waved to the maître-d and paid the bill. 

Before Jeremy left for the day James called over to him in the carpark and gave him a box. “Don’t open it here.” Was all he said.

Jeremy obeyed but as soon as his car was on the gravel of his drive he opened the box and found a bottle of Gewürztraminer. Upon inspection it was from the year he and France married. A note also slithered out of the box. In James’ neat scrawl it read

_Don’t drink this all at once, and don’t drink it in the Merc._

Jeremy put the note along with the wine back into the box. His children greeted him when he came into the house. “Dad, come fix the computer!” Katya wailed.

“Let me put this away first” he said softly. He made his way to his kitchen to put the wine box near the rack. Fin had once again made a meal and the family ate afterwards Jeremy began to clean up. Katya and Fin had buggered off leaving Emily with her father. “I know what today is Dad. Do you miss her because of today or…” 

Jeremy turned towards his daughter, “I miss her and I don’t. There are days when I don’t think of her at all and then there are days when everything I look at reminds me of her.” Emily nodded at his words then asked, “What happened the night that Uncle James had to come?”. Emily sat back down at the table while Jeremy kept his position at the sink. “Earlier that day I had gone out and bought a bottle of wine. It was the only way James was going to come over to learn to swim. I stood for ages not knowing what to pick then I grabbed a bottle looked at the label and thought, ‘James will like this one’, I didn’t remember it was your Mum’s favorite. You see Emily I had totally forgotten about her I didn’t even realize it until I saw the bottle in the fridge. That’s why I behaved the way I did.”

Emily inhaled deeply through her nose, “That’s why?” she asked almost disappointed. Jeremy was more than confused but he knew not to explode at his daughter and his eyes pleaded with her to continue.

“It’s not like you bought the wine for some cheap tart. You bought the wine Mum liked and you loved her. You probably just bought it on instinct for James since you love him too.” And with that she swept away from the table to join her siblings.

Jeremy was sure the weight he felt on his foot was his jaw. Was that the issue? Was he in love with one of his best mates? He didn't get to contemplate the thought when Katya's cry of "Dad!" quickly followed by Fin's "We're not doing anything!" summoned him.


	2. Supplies

Apparently Fin and Katya had thought it great fun to get out the Monopoly set. Unfortunately Fin thought it was appropriate to place the pieces into Katya’s goldfish bowl. Jeremy sighed as he rescued the thimble, old shoe and the engine from the bowl. The splatter from the net had landed on the currency but Jeremy was beyond caring. The evening eventually gave way to night and Jeremy did indeed crack open a beer however; the album remained on the shelf. He went to the garage. 

His hands traced the curved lines of the 1959 Mercedes. He opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. He closed his eyes and remembered the last time that he and Francie had driven together.

_She wasn’t supposed to drive but Jeremy didn’t care he sat in the passenger seat as she carefully drove through the country lanes before turning around. She had left the top up even though it was a gorgeous day. She was self-conscious of her short hair. Jeremy had been thankful of the enclosed space for it had trapped her essence of the soap she used along with her perfume._

Sitting in the car now he inhaled and could only smell worn leather and other things associated with age. He began talking, “miss you. Kids have been messing about with the fishbowl. I don’t know how you did it. I wish I could have told you how much you meant to me when you were alive instead of me talking to a car. Nonetheless, I need to talk with you…it’s James.” 

No one save the Mercedes heard Jeremy pour his heart out. He told the mass of metal his confusion. He had relied on James during the first few weeks but did that constitute love? He couldn’t imagine life without him but he thought the same of his mobile phone. Eventually he ran out of things to say and he exited the garage. 

Thursday saw the move from the BBC offices to the Dunsfold track. This would be James’ last weekend to practice what he had learned before being flown to Ibiza to begin filming the segment for the new aquatic vessels. The _Mary Celeste_ idea had been scrapped in favour of looking at underwater archaeology. There was already a British archaeological crew working the coast of Ibiza recording the offerings to the goddess Tanit. All James knew was that he would be required to jump from a period sailing ship and swim towards a certain point. He would then be given the latest personal watercrafts from Cayago to demonstrate their abilities. 

Friday finally came and James would be spending the weekend with the Clarkson’s. He had ridden to Dunsfold on his Triumph, come Monday he would ride with Jeremy before being picked up by the camera crew and flying to Spain. Generally he would only ride his motorcycle in London however, he didn’t want to impose and leave his Panda parked on the gravel.

That night James had paid for pizza to be delivered to Chipping Norton. 

”How long will you be gone?” Fin asked chewing with his mouth open which Jeremy smacked him on the shoulder for.

“Well I fly out Monday if all goes well we should begin photography that day. The weather forecasts are promising. I could be done by Wednesday but we have arranged for a week in Spain if we need more time.” James said before sipping his beer.

“What will you be doing Daddy?” Katya asked.

“Yes what will you be doing Jez?” James echoed.

“Why do you call him Jez?” Katya inquired.

“Jez is short for Jeremy.” James explained.

Katya looked thoughtful before saying, “You don’t have a nickname.”

Jeremy snickered but said nothing but Emily was quick to jump on the train of though of her sister. “I understand what Kat is saying. You go by James, not Jim or Jimmy or even Jay.”

Jeremy wiped his face with a napkin and looked at James as if he had never really done so before, “She’s right.”

James bit his lip, “Well you see my Dad and I have the same name. I’ve always been James and nearly everyone else calls my Dad Jim.”

“What’s your middle name?” Fin demanded.

“Daniel” James delivered.

“Dad’s got two” Finlo informed this time taking the time to chew before he spoke.

James merely shot a look at Jeremy before the older man said, “Charles Robert.”

With dinner being take-away there were no pots and pans to clean up. Instead of vegging out in front of the telly the family opted for a board game. The children voted for Monopoly causing Jeremy to moan softly thinking of the last time he had seen the set. As James set up the board and counted out the money he made an observation, “Did these get wet?”

Fin snickered and Jeremy answered, “You really don’t want to know.”

There was no clear winner with the game which was to be expected. The kids had become bored and willingly went to bed leaving Jeremy and James to clean up the mess. “Well that went better than expected” James said.

“How’s that?” Jeremy muttered as he retrieved the dice.

James handed over the silver pieces and spoke, “well the last time I played this game was in University and at two in the morning the board was flipped over and a couple of the players decided to have a fistfight.”

The television eventually came on but it was mostly on for background light and noise. Jeremy didn’t know how to the broach the topic of whether or not he had feelings that went deeper than friendship with James. The men got ready for bed in their respective rooms and fell asleep. It was Jeremy that was awoken by Emily around one in the morning.

“Dad, get up.”

“What is it?” He asked as he pawed at a lamp to turn it on.

Emily was flustered, “We have to go out.”

“Why?” Jeremy demanded softly yet firmly.

“It’s Katya.”

Jeremy was now fully awake, “Is she ill, has she been sick?”

“Not exactly” Emily said uncertainly.

Jeremy stared at his daughter but calmly stated, “What is going on?”

Emily exhaled before babbling, “Shegotherperiod”

Jeremy rolled his eyes this was something he knew he would have to eventually deal with but thought he had more time. “Don’t we have supplies?” He demanded.

“Well I broke into the emergency stash so now we only have tampons, I wrote down pads on the shopping list but we haven’t gone out yet and I just finished my period so there was—“

Jeremy flapped his hands to signal her to shut up. Their conversation in concert with the light spilling forth from the Master bedroom had woken up James. He leant against the doorjamb, “What is it?”

”Katya is now a woman” Jeremy said as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Oh” James replied.

Jeremy moved to his wardrobe, “I have to go get…things.”

James expelled a breath through his nose, “I’ll go. I handled this with my sisters I know what to buy. There’s a petrol station that I’m pretty certain is 24 hours I can buy her a packet.”

Emily looked at James incredulously, “Are you sure you know what to get?”

James ran a hand through his hair “Does she want regulars with wings or without? I’m assuming she’ll need some overnights as well?”

“Ok you know what to get” Emily stated her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Jeremy stared at James in a look from not so long ago, “Thank you”

“Run her a bath” Jeremy said to Emily and she rushed off to comply. Jeremy moved towards James’ room. The man had pulled on his jeans but had no shirt. Jeremy found himself staring at the expanse of skin that composed James’ back. “Can you see if they have any of that girlie paracetamol?”

James snickered but nodded in the affirmative as he pulled on his shirt then sat back down on the bed to pull on his leather boots. He snagged his leather jacket from the hanger and trod down the stairs. Jeremy was changing the sheets on Katya’s bed when he heard the three cylinder Triumph fire up and go off into the night.

Jeremy turned his attention back to his daughter and had a brainwave. While he and the children hand gone through and cleared out Francie’s clothes he hadn’t really gone through her handbags. Opening the hall closet he reached up and snagged a white leather handbag. Sure enough in the zippered silk pocket there was a flash of pink plastic. He knocked on the bathroom door and it opened a crack he gave the hygiene product to Emily who muttered, “thanks dad.”

Jeremy merely leaned up against the wall, “Thank you Francie you saved me once again” he whispered.

Emily and Katya had gone back to bed so Jeremy waited for James to return. He sat on the leather sofa near the front door opened it when he heard James coming so the man didn’t have to fumble with his keys.

“How is she?” James asked as he stepped over the foyer.

”We can stand down from Red Alert, I found a pad in one of Francie’s purses.” Jeremy announced.

“I bought some pads and she’s over twelve so she can have this Feminax stuff.”

“What?” Jeremy asked.

“Painkillers” James answered as he handed Jeremy the purplish pink box

It was no well past two and Jeremy’s insomnia was in full swing. It was nights like these that he wished that he had held onto the sleeping tablets he was given after Francie died. He looked at James who seemed just as awake as himself. “You fancy some tea?”

”Yes” James hissed as he placed his helmet on the floor near the door.

Nearing four in the morning they finally felt the stirrings of sleep. They wearily climbed the stairs and went to their respective beds. Jeremy pulled back the covers and mulled over the past hours. His youngest child had entered womanhood. He had always thought Francie would be the one to handle it. He had dreaded this day yet he had survived somehow. He took a moment to contemplate what would have happened if James hadn’t had been here. He doubted he would have sent Emily out on her own at this time of night. Would he have woken and rounded his children up and put them in the Land Rover to buy feminine hygiene products and in the process embarrass his daughter more? What if he hadn’t have found a pad in Francie’s purse? The more he thought about it the more he realized that he needed James and that he did indeed love him.


	3. Salt Water

With the chaos of the night the family slept in save for Fin who was up at his usual time having slept through it all. Katya seemed to be avoiding Jeremy. James noticed and something clicked. He moved closer to Jeremy and whispered; “I think it best if we avoid the pool today.”

“My thoughts exactly” Jeremy whispered back. However, Katya was having none of it. 

”We can still swim I’m not dying you know!”

”Who’s dying?” Fin asked not really paying attention.

Her brother’s indifference ignited something in Emily who became extremely protective of Katya, “Shut up Fin! You’ll be the one dying since I’ll be killing you!”

James watched in astonished stupor as his “nieces and nephew” proceeded to revert to their ape-like ancestors in front of him. Eventually Jeremy stepped in and separated them all and banished them to their rooms to settle down.

Jeremy glanced at the clock, “only half ten too early for a pint?”

James expelled a breath, which moved his hair, “While that was one of the more unusual things I have seen it’s oddly familiar.”

“Go on,” Jeremy said from inside the fridge as he grabbed two bottles of beer.

James grabbed the bottle and opened it, “My Mum, and my sisters would PMS together. Apparently women who live in groups, their cycles naturally synch up. Jane and Mum would go on a tear and Dad would tell me to leave them alone. Around the time Sarah was two I learned all about it.”

Eventually Katya came down from her room complaining of pain, Jeremy dutifully provided her with the Feminax James had bought. He had her sit on the sofa, put in her favourite DVD and gave her a hot water bottle for her cramps. It was unspoken between all of them that today they would stay in. Emily stayed in her room probably texting someone. 

Half way through the movie the phone rang. James stayed with Katya while Jeremy went to answer it he could hear snippets of the conversation.

“We’re all right, bit of crisis last night but it’s resolved. No, no nothing like that…feminine issues.” There was a space of time before James heard Jeremy chuckle then, “Of course you can, term break coming up let me look. Actually it’s this week coming. Yeah, yeah! Bye.”

Jeremy came back into the living room. “Good news?” James asked.

Jeremy nodded, “Francie’s cousin is going to New York and wants the kids to come along. The calendar informs me that it’s half-term coming up for most of them and I’ll excuse Katya for the other two days. They should spend time with their relatives.”

James brought the neck of the bottle to his lips and then stopped, “So next week you’ll be home by yourself.”

Jeremy was stunned, James was right. Ever since the death of his parents he had never spent a night alone. His children or James was always with him. What would he do with the house all to himself? He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

While Jeremy seemed excited by the prospect James’ stomach was churning. All of a sudden he didn’t want to go to Spain. His mind thought of a thousand and more nasty things that might happen while he was gone. The thought of a fire with Jeremy cooking, he could get drunk in the Mercedes again. He took a sip of beer and tried to lock these thoughts away. Jeremy would be fine.

Saturday blurred into Sunday and despite the forecasts for good weather it poured rain. Jeremy accessed the forecasts for Spain on his iPhone and it was raining there as well. James loaded a small bag with clothes he kept at Chipping Norton.

“Good thing the Beeb sprang for a week, it might take that long.” James said offhand.

Monday morning Jeremy rounded everyone in the Land Rover and dropped them off at their respective schools before driving on with James to Dunsfold. Once there the camera team would inventory the equipment and they would travel to Heathrow. The anxiety over leaving Jeremy alone was still eating at James however he tried to ignore it. The camera crew had labeled everything it was time to go.

 _The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain_ this thought rolled around James’ head as they landed. There was rain everywhere including the aeroplane. The crew had decided to abandon the first day of photography. Forecasts showed rain tomorrow so they would be interviewing the archaeologists to get their thoughts on the new Cayago equipment.

It had taken until Thursday for the swimming sequence to be filmed. An old style Greek boat had been moored. The shot had been placed so the camera could only see the trireme when the camera panned out a newer sleeker scientific vessel could be seen moored beside the ancient vessel. On queue James would jump off the boat swim towards the other, climb the ladder and say the line, “Permission to come aboard--in Greek.”

Health and safety boats were positioned at intervals in case something went wrong. The lighting was perfect, the director was happy it was time to go. James launched himself off the side of the boat crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his legs as he entered the ocean. When the sting of saltwater burned the inside of his nose he breathed out to clear it. His mind latched onto all the lessons Jeremy had given him and kept his head down in the water. His arms and legs propelled him forwards and soon he was at the Science vessel.

“άδεια να έρθει στο κατάστρωμα” He said a bit out of breath. The captain delivered his line and the shot was done. A towel was thrust at him as he needed to dry off somewhat to put on his wetsuit so he could use the Cayago equipment. There was much to see, ancient shipwrecks and coins could be picked up by hand from the bottom of the sea. Archaeologists surrounded James some on personal water crafts other in bubble-subs. They filmed underwater for about two hours. Voice overs would be done in editing to make the footage flow smoother. All that was left was to film some exhibits in one of the museums on the mainland. The BBC had gotten permission to film but it would be after the museum closed tomorrow night.

James phoned Jeremy from his hotel Friday morning, “Things went well thanks to you, got it in one shot!”

From his house in Chipping Norton Jeremy smiled, he was glad that James had phoned the place had been so quiet. He listened as James explained that hopefully he would be back in England early Saturday. The crew were hoping to film the sequence in the museum, pack up and since they were on the mainland of Spain they could hot foot it to the airport and fly back to Heathrow.

 _I could be at your place for the weekend_ James had said.

This news made Jeremy feel warm and content and he bit his tongue to clamp down on a smile, “Just call me and I’ll pick you up.”

After James’ phone call he phoned Emily whom seemed annoyed but that just let him know that they were all having a good time. He put his mobile in his back pocket and went about his Friday, Andy had allowed him to stay home since most of his footage had been shot. He just needed to edit the script before voice-overs. With evening falling he wondered if Insomnia would rear it’s head again and Jeremy found himself walking through the house. He stopped inside each of his children’s rooms. Fin’s was surprisingly neat with posters of metal bands slowly taking up residence while toys were being abandoned. In Katya’s room he took the time to feed her fish and place a coat on the back of a chair. Emily’s room was last; he removed her phone charger from the wall not because he was eco-green but because it was making some kind of feedback. He stopped outside of James’ room, never had gone inside but he found himself inside his best mate’s bedroom. The wardrobe was open and he saw a few shirts perfectly hung and on the floor was a neat row of shoes. The room even smelled of James, the soap and the shaving cream he used. He knew it was silly but he lay down on the bed. He closed his eyes and thought of how he would tell James what he meant to him. He rehearsed lines and mentally crossed them off if they sounded to mushy in his head. He didn’t want to think about the option of James rejecting him. He kept the fantasy of them being together in the abstract.

Buzzing and a shrill tone woke him, he rolled over and checked the caller ID it was Hammond. “What is it Hamster?”

_Turn on your TV mate_

The urgency in his voice had Jeremy taking the stairs two at time. He dug the remote from the cushions of the couch and flipped on the TV. The anchors of BBC 24 had taken over the broadcast; there had been a bomb blast in Spain. Jeremy still had his phone to his ear, “What’s this, did this just happen?”

_They think it’s those ETA separatists, bombed a nightclub._

“Christ” Clarkson mumbled.

_Have you heard from James?_

The simple request question for Richard had Jeremy reeling. “He rang me this morning said ‘the crew would be at a museum.”

_Did he say which one?_

“no”

Richard and Jeremy exchanged what information they knew and eventually hung up. Jeremy grabbed his charger and plugged in his phone he wasn’t taking any chances on the battery. The news was now piping a feed from Spain after two hours the images were just being replayed there was nothing fresh. Jeremy got out his lap top and spent the time researching what Hammond had told him. He learned that the ETA was short for Euskadi Ta Askatasuna. He remembered the train bombings in 2004. He slammed shut his laptop and stood. He reached for his cigarettes and lit up, normally he only smoked in the kitchen but he didn’t care. This couldn’t be happening, not again. Around three his phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID revealed the prefix of 34, Spain’s code.

Jeremy answered the phone, “Clarkson”

James sounded robotic _The Spanish took our cameras but have now given them back. Took my phone…we’ll be flying to Heathrow on the first available flight. Should arrive at seven oh two._

”I’ll be there.” After hanging up he called Richard and asked for a favor.

Jeremy waited by the luggage carousel, James would be clearing customs and coming this way. The media was here as well; getting interviews with British travelers that had been near the bombing. Flashbulbs were firing which let Jeremy know James had arrived. From his position he could see that James looked weary. The camera crew from Top Gear quickly flanked him, the men effectively forming a wall to block the photographers. 

The crew and James were chanting, “No Comment.” Jeremy moved through the crowd and stood beside him. Jeremy used his bulk to push the reporters out of the way. He felt a tugging, looking over his shoulder he saw that James had a fistful of his jacket not letting go. The sliding doors loomed and Jeremy hoped that the timing was right. A red Volvo estate pulled up to the curb and Clarkson lunged toward it dragging James with him. The two climbed into the back as Richard Hammond drove away.

”Thank you Richard” James whispered harshly. 

”Anytime, mate, anytime” Richard negotiated the maze of turnoffs until he came to a terminal parking lot. Jeremy exited and James followed, the silver gleam of the AMG was a welcome sight and soon both were inside.

James secured his seatbelt, “take me home Jez.”

“Jeremy swallowed, “yeah twenty minutes.”

James laughed but it wasn’t a pleasant sort of laugh, “Even you can’t speed that fast, I know it’ll be over an hour and that’s fine. Just take me home I want to go home.” 

Jeremy’s heart simultaneously broke and was mended when he realized that James was referring to Chipping Norton as home.


	4. Home

The motorways gave way to the A-roads. Upon seeing Jeremy in the baggage claim the anxious knot James had carried in his gut since packing his bags had loosened. While he hadn’t slept and couldn’t contemplate it ever again he was looking forward to his bed at Chipping Norton. James had been silent his left hand had been tracing patterns on the window of the door. Jeremy was about to reach for the stereo when James finally broke the silence, “Thought it was a joke. The explosion. We had filmed the segment in the Museum. The camera crew wanted a wide shot of the frontage of the Museum when we had arrived at dusk the lighting was crap. The crew set up and then Bang! The next intersection down from the museum was the nightclub. I just couldn’t fathom it. I really thought it was for the piece. Car alarms and screaming came next then I knew it wasn’t a prank. The camera crew started filming they told me later that it was just instinct to film. I moved forward to be with them because I didn’t want to be left alone. There was another blast, we all got hit by some glass and debris, I don’t want to talk about...” James swallowed audibly. Jeremy slowed at the intersection so he could make the right hand turn. “You were picked up by the Police?” He prodded softly.

James huffed, “god! We didn’t get an interpreter for about three quarters of an hour. They just did this interrogation in Spanish; I don’t know what they thought. Took my phone but I remembered your number and called from the station phone when I was allowed.”

“And the cameras?”

“Just inspected, they ran off a copy of what the crew had filmed of the blast. Our papers were in order our permits legit…let us go.”

Jeremy knew the answer but he asked, “Did you sleep on the plane?”

“No.”

The drive loomed and Jeremy expertly maneuvered the car. He parked it not caring if it was left out in the elements, he snagged James bag from the boot before opening the door for his friend. James tolerated the helping hand on his elbow but only just. His emotions were close to the surface and he was afraid he would break. Jeremy removed his coat and hung it on the coat tree. James went to follow but his hands and forearm shook. He didn’t know whether it was from lack of sleep or low blood sugar but he couldn’t hang up his coat. The fact that he could not complete this simple task nearly broke him.

Jeremy could see that he was at a breaking point and he was going to push him to it. He knew that James held everything in until it reached critical mass. While everyone else regarded James as meek Jeremy knew in actuality he just had an incredibly long fuse. James was going to explode at some point over this Spanish nightmare and Jeremy was going to make sure it was in the comfort of home and with him so he knew he was safe and loved his mind added.

Jeremy reached for James’ coat and in the process touched his hand. James snatched his hand away as if it had been burnt. His breathing began to increase and he felt flushed. This large house seemed to confining and he had to leave, he clawed at the door since tears were filling his eyes. Jeremy could see the panic rising in him and knew this was it. Knowing that James hated being touched he was still willing to risk a black eye. He stretched out his arms and drew James to him. The shorter man stiffened but Jeremy held fast, a hitching sob was heard then silence. James offered no more resistance and made no noise as he cried. 

Jeremy had been prepared for shouting or even a good punch. He remembered how James had nearly knocked him on his arse when he got drunk last. Eventually the tears stopped, Jeremy had never really seen James be an emotional wreck. Oh he’d been on the business end of a machete so he knew the man had a temper but this was something he hadn’t been privy to. Knowing that he himself became exhausted after something like this he was willing to bet James would be too. He didn’t take his arms off of James he merely whispered, “Move with me.” The four-legged creature moved from the front room and went up the stairs. Jeremy felt some of the tension relax as they crossed the threshold into James’ bedroom.

Jeremy motioned towards the bed, “Try and sleep.”

James ran his fingers through his hair before forming a fist on the top, Jeremy winced in sympathy, James eventually let go, “I can’t.”

“I think you can…lets compromise. You lie down for twenty minutes; I’ll keep the time. After twenty minutes if you’re not asleep you can do laundry with me.”

James chuckled softly and Jeremy knew he had won. James got comfortable on the bed while Jeremy drew the curtains shutting out the light. After that he bent down to pick up James’ discarded shoes and place them in the wardrobe. In the few minutes it took to make sure there was nothing trippable on the floor James’ breathing had evened out letting Jeremy know he was asleep.

The feeling of victory in Jeremy was quickly quelled by the knowledge that James probably wouldn’t stay that peaceful. One of the reasons the children had been given sedatives was to mitigate the loss of their mother. Since she had died suddenly the light tranquilizers allowed the children to ease into this new fact. Also the hallmark of post-traumatic stress was sleep disturbances. Jeremy was used to insomnia and he didn’t want to be drugged incase his children needed him. While he joked that manual labor was his fear his absolute worry was being incapacitated and his children needing him. Dreams about them drowning and him being unable to reach them. The tranquilizers were eventually scaled back and the children saw grief counselors to talk about their loss. Jeremy had forgone the counselor and mainly talked to Francie’s car, on occasion when he was drunk he would talk to James but he didn’t remember much about those conversations.

Grabbing his mobile he rang Richard. “Hamster, want to say thank you.”

_Not a problem mate. How is the long haired beggar anyhow?_

“As of right now he’s sleeping, what about you?”

_The kids and Mindy are at my Mum’s I’m heading there now. By the way after I dropped you two of I drove through Hammersmith, the press is all over James’ house. I think they’ll be at yours soon._

At this Jeremy smiled, “Good thing I have lots of land, a huge gate and a Sister who is a criminal lawyer!” 

Jeremy could hear Richard laugh, _Is Joanne number 1 or number 2 on your speed dial?_

They shared a laugh before hanging up.

James awoke in a panic, he was soaking in sweat and had no clue where he was. His eyes darted around the room and his brain filled in that he was at Chipping Norton with Jeremy. The memory of him crying on the shoulder of his best mate had him stifling a moan. As if on queue Jeremy appeared James expected an assessment. Surprisingly Jeremy only said, “You can use the master bath if you like, fresh towels in there.”

A shower did seem like a wonderful idea, he made his way into Jeremy’s bedroom to the bathroom. While the guest bathroom had a bathtub and shower it was a combination, Jeremy’s bathroom had separate bathtub and shower. His shower was one of the most luxurious engineering marvels. That combined with a tank-less water heater meant hot water anytime all the time. He had lost track of the amount of time he spent in the water. When he finally turned off the taps and exited the cubicle the whole bathroom was full of steam. Cracking open the door allowed the dryer air to mingle with humid. The mirror was beyond fogged and when James wiped it with a towel he was startled by his reflection. His hair needed combing and he needed a shave. His toiletries were in the guest bathroom in the hall. However, he didn’t feel like trudging through the house to get them. “Cock!” 

Jeremy had been idling in the bedroom he had been going through his socks when he heard what had become James’ trademark expletive. Moving to the bathroom he asked, “Everything all right?”

”Yes, no. I need my comb and razor and they’re in the other bathroom and I don’t want to go get them but I need them and…cock!

Jeremy pushed the door wider and once again was greeted with the creamy skin of James’ back, a clean white towel was wrapped low on his hips. Jeremy cleared his throat then pointed to the middle drawer, “No comb but there’s a hairbrush and the drawer on the bottom has disposable razors.”

Jeremy moved to leave but James stopped him, “It sounds crazy but perhaps I am. Could you please stay?”

Jeremy moved to the toilet and put down the seat. James could see him in the mirror and it made him feel calm. He brushed his hair and then rewet his face to begin the process of shaving.

Jeremy was quite enamored by the process. James was methodical in this daily habit that it was almost ritualistic. Clarkson remembered what James said in the car _I don’t want to talk about…_

“James, I know that I’m the last person you want telling you this but you have to talk to someone about this. I didn’t talk to a professional I talked to you, dumped on you and I’m bloody thankful. I’m here if you want to talk…Richard too. ”

James smiled the simple pull of facial muscles transformed James. The years seemed to melt off him--he looked youthful.

Jeremy wanted desperately to touch him, before he could stop his mouth he asked, “Why don’t you like to be touched?”

James snorted but answered confidently, “Think you can solve that problem too?”

Jeremy flapped his hands trying to dismiss the conversation but James was feeling a strange combination of vulnerable but brave. “I wasn’t beaten by my parents or anything. It’s just something my Dad said once. I was playing with my sisters and he said, ‘A man shouldn’t behave that way.’ So I just turned that part of myself off, I tell myself I don’t like being touched when in actuality I like it quite a bit. However, I really don’t like public nudity." 

James had finished shaving while talking to Jeremy his hand went to reach for the towel to wipe away the flecks of foam that remained. Jeremy stood from the toilet to fetch it for him. With the new knowledge part of Jeremy’s brain wanted to kiss him right there but he also knew to be extremely cautious he didn’t want to fuck up whatever he thought was happening between them. He merely took the towel and swiped at James’ face, which earned him another smile. Jeremy couldn’t resist and his hand came to rest on the space between his shoulder blades. The fact that James allowed it and didn’t stiffen had the abstract fantasy becoming more tangible. 


	5. Walk

Jeremy left before he could do anything he might regret. James trod to his room and quickly donned clean clothes. It was odd for the house to be quiet. He expected loud music from Fin’s room or the occasional scream from one of the girls. He missed them. As he came downstairs he inquired about the three.

“Oh they’re having a great time. Be flying back on Tuesday, Fin and Emily have those in-service days for teachers and I already got Katya excused. She’ll be writing a paper on New York.”

“Homework already?” James asked his eyebrows climbing to his hairline.

Jeremy grinned manically, “I asked her instructor to assign it. I’ve been given a lot of leeway with the kids since Francie’s death but I’m not going to abuse it. I’m already anticipating problems with Emily.”

James stiffened, “What type of problems?”

“She’s not interested in University, I wish she was more like her mother. I got lucky with my career and I’m not saying she won’t be either but I want more feathers in her cap and I think University will provide that.”

“You make it sound being like you is a bad thing.” James muttered.

Jeremy caressed his cigarette lighter and the two made their way to the front door and stepped out onto the drive to smoke. “My sister and I were very fortunate with schooling. You know that Mum sold Paddington’s to get the money. Joanne went to law school; I didn’t pursue any additional schooling. I went into journalism and I always stayed current on topics, and I never wanted to be labeled as an uneducated person. It became a game; going to functions seeing if I could pass as being educated. I don’t want to be perceived as stupid, so on most things so I learn as much as I can. Emily doesn’t have that focus. I don’t want her relying on her surname for things to fall into her lap. I’m going to have her clerk for Joanne during the summer months; I would love it if you could spend some time with her, tell her about your experience at Pendle. Talk with someone with a degree.”

James felt that Jeremy was undervaluing himself and argued, “you have a degree as well.”

“Honorary mate.” Jeremy said in bitterness as he lit another cigarette.

James was becoming agitated, “Same as me.”

Jeremy removed the cigarette from his mouth and pointed at James with it between his fore and middle finger,” No! Not the same as you. James, you have a First. No one threw pie at you when you got your honorary degree.” He took a drag from the cigarette, “You’re the smartest out of all of us.” Covet lacing his voice. 

James was incredibly confused, praise from Jeremy Clarkson? Jealousy from from him too? The intimacy that they had shared in the bathroom seemed to be morphing into something bitter.

_Lover’s quarrel_ his mind supplied and then the realization dawned.

Why he felt sick leaving for Spain and the subsequent feeling of relief at being back with Jeremy. The kindness that Jeremy had shown him in the bathroom did this mean Jeremy felt the same way? After all the time they had spent together.

Jeremy saw something change in Mr. May’s blue eyes and his stomach dropped. He wondered if he was going to be punched in the gut again on the drive. This time he was sober so perhaps he could dodge it. James took two steps forward and looked determinedly at his friend, “Are you attracted to me?”

Jeremy nodded and James copied Jeremy’s earlier tone, “No, say it.”

Of all the ways Jeremy had imagined telling James this was not it. Part of him wanted to lie but he was sick and tired of losing things close to him. “You want it straight?”

James nodded.

“All right, the truth. I love you.”

James was fluent in the English language but somehow the words didn’t make sense. “As in?” he asked meekly.

Jeremy finished his cigarette and once again tossed the remnants in the bushes, “As in sell your place in Hammersmith and move home here.”

“When?” James shouted waving his arms to fill in the other part of the sentence.

Ever the chain-smoker Clarkson lit up again, “It was the wine James. That bloody wine with the umlauts. I only buy it for those I love. Do you want to know what I thought when BBC 24 was showing footage from Spain?”

James was quiet but nodded minutely so Jeremy continued, “I thought not again. I’m not losing another person I love.”

“I need some time to think. The past few days… Christ these past months. I’m going for a walk and before you ask I have my phone.” 

Jeremy said nothing as the man who had become more than a friend marched off to wood beyond the house. The abstract fantasy that had given Jeremy fuel for the past weeks was dissolving. He tried to look at the facts, James hadn’t out right denied him he hadn’t declared that he felt the same. While James exorcised his demons by exercising, Jeremy went to the garage; he needed to talk to Francie.


	6. Panic

James’ feet rustled leaves as he trudged through the floor of the wood. He was mindful of his footing not wanting to twist his knee. The more he walked in the wood the more he thought it was a stupid idea. The sun seemed to agree with him for clouds soon covered it stealing away heat and light. So he turned around and went back to the estate.

Jeremy was crammed into the 1959 Mercedes “Here we are again Francie”. Clarkson hadn’t bothered turning on the lights in the garage since it was a sunny day however, once he began talking the light through the windows disappeared. He didn’t care he merely talked; he talked about the children how her cousin was showing them the sights in New York. The debacle in Spain was next along with the recent exchange with James, “Well I told him, and he’s out and about. I don’t think I ran him off but here’s the absolute mad part. If he comes back I don’t know what to do and if he leaves I don’t know what to do. What do you think?”

His answer came when the sun reemerged through the clouds, the light streamed into the garage and it motivated Jeremy to get out and find James. In moment of comic timing he pulled on the door to reveal James about to push it. The two were startled by each other and laughed to break the tension. 

James fisted his hair a move that Jeremy was beginning to associate with stress. “I can give you space.” Jeremy stammered.

Amazement flared in James, never had he really known Jeremy to handle him this way well there was Syria and he had been injured. Was he injured now? He tried to think of the last time he was calm funnily enough it was when he had been swimming, “I never showed you that I can swim, and I don’t know if that footage will ever make it to air. Can we go to the pool?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Jeremy said nodding his head in a way that James found comical. 

They moved into the house and retrieved their things. The AMG was utilized since it was already out the countryside blurred by and it wasn’t long before the concrete pool wall was visible. There was one lone swimmer in water but that didn’t deter the other two. Jeremy felt a pang of pride as James crossed his arms over his chest and stepped off the side into the water. Every time he had been here or the pools at the BBC the man had used the ladder. On habit James moved to the lane closest to the wall, Jeremy had the urge to fetch the pool net but it wasn’t needed. Jeremy dove into the lane next to him and began doing some laps. During one of his turns he noticed the other swimmer had vacated leaving the expanse of water to them. James didn’t have the stamina to continue for long time and Jeremy really didn’t have the lung capacity. The taller man slung an arm over the side and coughed, James ducked under the lane line to join Jeremy in his aisle of water.

“All right old man” James asked and Jeremy nodded. The older man gripped the concrete and launched himself out of the pool. James followed and the two sat on the side of the pool letting the sun warm them as they dangled their feet into the water.

“See, I told you I could help you.” Jeremy said smugly. 

“I’m going to take a leaf from your book and say, ‘I’m fucking grateful.’”

Jeremy drew in a breath between his teeth and regarded the man beside him. Water droplets clung to his flesh and the dark blue of his trunks highlighted his light skin, he had cuts on his neck and the backs of his hands probably from the glass. Not caring if anyone else showed up he leaned in pressed his lips to James. There was no tension; no stiffening and James returned the pressure with his own lips. The kiss was short, a confirmation to say, “hey I have feelings for you, I want to spend time with you, I adore you.”

Jeremy was equal parts terrified and exhilarated he tried not to think of the many beside him since he was already in a state of low arousal just being near James he really didn’t want to be sporting a boner walking back to the car. They showered separately and instead of driving back to the estate they went into town. Provisions were low and the children would be coming back on Tuesday and food would become scare. Jeremy diligently placed a pound into the trolley-lock and began pushing the cart through the supermarket. The locals had become used to the television stars presence and Clarkson had been a model citizen. In the 18 months since the death of the elder Clarksons and Francie, James had also become a banality in the Cotswolds. It was with a strange sense of ease that they shopped, each picking up items. James reached for Spaghetti hoops for Katya and Jeremy got two packets of Fin’s cereal. Jeremy couldn’t help but smiling when James placed a tin of Spam into the trolley. Clarkson was about to push the trolley to the checkout when James’ hand grabbed the front and steered it towards another aisle.

“James?” Jeremy asked confused then he groaned it was the feminine aisle.

“Come on mate let me show you how this works.”

Jeremy was pretty sure that the march towards James rivaled a man walking to the gallows. Instead of giving a lecture on the history of the sanitary napkin and tabs versus wings James took pity on him and pointed towards two green packets. “Buy this brand and see how it’s colour coded?”

Jeremy nodded in the affirmative and his ears were tinged pink.

“You need yellow and orange”

“Put them in the trolley then.” Clarkson demanded.

The meek mannered May shot him a look. Dejected Jeremy reached for the items and was relieved that he didn’t knock over the display. With the items safely in the trolley they paid for their items and left.

It wasn’t until they were putting the groceries away that James had noticed the Spam, “I guess you’re not the only one buying things on instinct.”

”I like it, not Spam, but I like the fact that you feel comfortable here. I want you comfortable here.” He wanted to say “I want you” but he stopped never the less the look in his eye conveyed the message.

This was uncharted territory for both of them. James was crap awful at a relationship, which was why he didn’t have many of them to begin with, and Jeremy hadn’t courted anyone since his wife. To compound matters they had both spent so much time together at work through the years and in the subsequent months that there wasn’t really much more they could learn about one another like you could with dating. Were they supposed to just jump into bed? 

James kicked Jeremy out of the kitchen while he cooked up something for dinner. While the two ate they decided on a film. James knew that the Clarkson’s had a huge video library and inquired about a new release

”You know what I think we have it.” Jeremy grabbed his reading glasses and began searching one head of the huge bookcase, which housed the DVD’s while James started at the other. Halfway through Jeremy had a brainwave, “Could be in Fin’s room.”

“I’ll go” James announced. Fin had his own collection of DVD’s he had thrown away the jewel cases and simply stored the discs in a CD folder. James began flipping through it until he remembered that Fin had a DVD/TV. He switched on the TV and hit a button. His intent was to remove eject the disc so he could inspect it but he had pressed play by mistake. Jeremy had finished his search and went to see if James had had any luck. What he found was a hyperventilating James backed into a corner of Fin’s room. He glanced quickly to the TV and recognized the film, it was _The Siege_ the scene where the terrorist had detonated a bomb on the bus.

_Panic Attack_ Jeremy's mind supplied. Francie had had one when she had been informed of her aneurysm. Jeremy had been sitting in the chair next to her when the Doctor had informed them. It helped that she was already sitting. The doctor had Jeremy help him push her chair away from the desk and put her head between her knees and command her to take slower breaths. Her panic had been so strong she had passed out. Jeremy hoped that he could break through James’ panic. First thing he did was connect his fist with Fin's television, he hadn't managed to hit the power button but he did make contact with Eject. The television switched to a blue screen as the DVD tray slide forward. He then moved quickly and shouted James’ name. There was no recognition so he slapped him. Jeremy’s large hand made a loud _Thwack_ as it landed on James’ cheek. The sting allowed James’ brain to focus enough to see that he was in Fin’s bedroom and not outside the museum. His breathing was still to quick and his legs felt rubbery as a result Jeremy had to manhandle him out of Fin’s room. James’ room was closer and Jeremy went for it and made James sit on the edge of the bed. With a mix of gentleness and force Jeremy pushed on the other mans shoulders lowering his head and chest hoping to slow his breathing.

Jeremy had never known time to pass so slowly but eventually the rapid rising and falling of James’ back lengthened. Soon Jeremy encountered resistance as James moved to sit up. He eased his pressure and James’ upper half became vertical. He closed his eyes as if dizzy and then opened then.

“how do you feel?” Jeremy asked.

“Sick” was James’ answer.

The taller man sat beside him and gently ran his palm between his shoulder blades. The ragged intakes of breaths softened so Jeremy kept his hand where it was.

“I want to lie down” James ultimately murmured and Jeremy stood so he could crawl up the mattress. “Stay” he whispered quietly, so quietly Jeremy was unsure that he heard him. James relaxed further when he felt the mattress dip under Jeremy’s weight. Their positioning made for an innocent scene. James was on his side facing the wardrobe while Jeremy was on his back staring at the ceiling. Just hearing the older mans rhythm of exhales had James calming. He knew Jeremy was there and that allowed him to sleep.

Jeremy knew when James had drifted off, he had the experience of this morning to teach him. What is only this morning? He listed the events of Saturday his mind:

1\. Got woken up by Hammond

2\. Scared shitless that James might be dead

3\. Got phone call from James

4\. He had picked James up from Heathrow

5\. driven home 

6\. been witness to breakdown 

7\. Convince James to take a nap 

8\. Had one of the best conversation while sitting on a toilet

9\. Fallen out on the drive 

10\. Declared his love 

11\. Talked with Francie

12\. Swam 

13\. Kissed

14\. Shopped

15\. Eaten dinner

16\. Another breakdown

17\. Ended up in bed with James

A flick of his wrist revealed that it was nearly eight, so it had just been over twelve hours since the airport. That meant four more hours until this crazy-wonderful Saturday would wind down. What in the hell would Sunday bring?


	7. Sunday

Sunday loomed early for the two and for Jeremy it brought a blazing erection. In the night he had turned from his back onto his side and had spooned up behind James. Now Jeremy had to figure out a way to extricate himself from James and the bed.

Fate being what it was intervened. James, prone to being cold had discovered a heat source and had pushed back to obtain more warmth. The subtle wiggling had Jeremy holding his breath hoping that James wouldn’t notice or pretend not to notice the state he was in.

“That for me?” He asked softly. 

“Umm” Jeremy stalled.

James pushed back again, “Is that because of me or because I’m a warm body?”

Jeremy resisted the urge to chuckle; he knew that James needed reassurance that he did indeed want him. He merely looped an arm around James’ body pulling him closer, “it’s for you.”

James hummed in contentment and Jeremy could feel the vibration in his chest making him grip tighter. This was all the confirmation that James needed, that Jeremy’s words were true he did love him. And James knew that he loved this chain-smoking bombast too. He turned in Jeremy’s arms so he could face him; he strained forward to press his lips to his. 

Jeremy could feel arms around him and lips on his. It felt so good and it had been so long. He unwittingly gasped as James’ hips bumped his. Never wanting to miss and opportunity James gently probed Jeremy’s mouth with his tongue. The answering groan let him know that it was something the older man liked. 

James was in danger of losing his shirt. Jeremy’s large hands had fistfuls of cotton in them. The tugging was actually pulling the collar around James’ throat. The choking man jutted forward essentially loosening Jeremy’s hold and bumping chests. The fists unclenched and James was rewarded with the feel of palms sliding up and down his back.

Suddenly the idea of touching another man’s cock wasn’t that alien. James worked the worn leather of the belt free from the loops and pushed the trademark Clarkson Levi’s down to the man’s knees. Pale green boxers greeted him and James merely lifted an eyebrow. Jeremy got very still, every nerve was on edge, he tried to draw a measured breath through his teeth but when James’ warm hand surrounded him all attempts to breathe were forgotten. Jeremy gulped, he gasped and he whined. James watched his face as his hand moved up and down. A twist of the wrist earned him a gasp, more pressure at the base a moan. It was like learning a new musical instrument. So entranced with making Jeremy squirm, moan and shudder he was unaware that Jeremy had undone the fly of his own jeans.

Jeremy drank in the surprised “oh” James made when his own hand found James’ own erection eagerly awaiting him. Mimicking what he liked himself Jeremy used the rhythm he preferred. The soft huffs of James’ exhales had him wondering why he had lived so long without this. It had been too long for both of them but this hot frantic meeting of hands and mouths seemed to be the most fitting for their first time. Languid caresses and sexy flourishes would be for later. Now the race was on to see which one of them could make the other fall apart first. Jeremy saw it as a challenge and anchored his other hand on James’ hip and whispered, “Come on.”

James bowed his head, resting his forehead against Jeremy’s shoulder. He tried to ignore the tingling at the base of his spine. He wanted this to experience to go on and on but he knew that it wouldn’t. Nonetheless he wanted Jeremy to remember this. He lifted his forehead off of Jeremy’s shoulder and sank his teeth into the area instead. 

A sharp cry filled the room and Jeremy was lurching. James slowed his hands just letting his fingertips run patterns along Jeremy’s cock. The taller man heaved as he came. James watched as his friend and now lover spun down. He was still achingly hard; his own hands went to rectify the problem but were batted away by Jeremy who then kissed his throat. It was perhaps one of the most tender and erotic things done by a partner and James went willingly to where Jeremy wanted him.

When James finally collecting himself he felt fingertips on his cheek, “I left a mark, I’m sorry.” Jeremy said.

“Forgiven.” James said before removing Jeremy’s hand and kissing the palm. “Do you want an apology for me hitting you on the drive?”

Jeremy scoffed, “no, I was being a prat I deserved it.”

James tilted his head to the side in a move that screamed, “likewise.”

Jeremy looked down and viewed himself and James they were partially clothed with pants around knees and shirts shoved up. It reminded him of the heavy petting sessions of when he was a teenager, he felt young instead of old. This was soon tempered by the creaking of his back, “I’m hungry, come on get up you can make me breakfast.” 

“Perhaps, I should slap you?” James spat but it had no real malice to it.

To retaliate James opened the newly purchased tin of Spam and began frying it up. Scrambled eggs would follow. It was over breakfast that James finally mentioned the _other_ drive incident“I’m not sure that selling my house would be a good idea.” 

”Good point you can use it house your bikes.”

James threw his fork down, “have you really thought this through?”

”All right no bullshit what are your concerns? Lets go through them and address them.” Jeremy said as he as he wiped his face with a napkin.

James fisted his hair, ”Lets start with the big three: Emily, Finlo and Katya.”

”Those three all love you.” Jeremy then told James the story of how it was Emily who had connected the dots for him. James laughed when realized that he Emily didn’t consider him a ‘Cheap Tart’. Jeremy didn’t give James a chance to list his other concerns for he had an inkling of what they were. 

”The press is going to be the press we can handle them however you want. If you don’t want the media crawling over us with us going to register our partnership I can have Joanne draft palimony papers instead. James, I’ve thought this through.

“You have so much to lose.” James delivered in all seriousness.

Jeremy snagged a piece of Spam off of James’ plate, “yeah, I get to lose being lonely.”


	8. Needs

James was reeling! Jeremy had thought things through. In James’ mind Jeremy had skipped a certain amount of levels. They had only jerked each other off an hour ago and Jeremy was talking about domestic partnerships? The salty-pork of the Spam seemed cloying and James pushed his plate away. It was early Sunday and he wanted to surround himself with things he did without Jeremy. His bike came to mind and he remembered that it was not on the drive.

“Where’s my Triumph?” He asked off hand.

Jeremy picked up the plate and pushed the contents into the rubbish bin, “I moved it to the garage. Don’t worry! I know how to the work the kickstand. I didn’t leave it on it’s side.”

“Do you mind if I work on it?” 

Jeremy used his elbow to turn on the tap over the sink, “You know where everything is.”

James moved from the table to the front room and eventually out of the house. In the far end of the garage he saw his beloved motorbike. As walked into the garage he remembered all the times that he would have to fetch Jeremy; James wasn’t stupid he knew that the man talked to his dead wife. James thought of Francie, she had the unique ability to temper Clarkson, to say he was full of shit in the most polite way imaginable but still get the point across. He had seen how Jeremy had worshipped her and the niggling doubt of Jeremy actually loving him wormed its way back into his head. Yet here he was and so was his bike, not smashed to bits in fact it had been moved with care. He found himself speaking out loud as he approached the workbench, “Why am I surprised? This is how he does it; he shows his love with all things vehicular.” He took a moment and moved to the Red Mercedes, “I do love him Francie and I love your children too.” He then grabbed a tarp and placed it on the floor. He then began removing bolts from the bike and placed them on the blue plastic, he wanted to check the oil filter. His hands moved efficiently removing hardware and he kept talking, “That night Emily called I thought that he had decided to end it all, be with you. Seeing him drunk and alive I wanted to kill him!” A quick look showed the oil filter and assembly still stable. He went to reassemble it, “I worry that the kids will hate me and in turn their father, that I’m marring your memory. Perhaps Jezza is right I do need to talk with someone.” 

He took his time replacing the bolts, he even cleaned the drops of oil from the tools he found and organized the tool drawer. By the time he was done he knew he could phone Hammond and actually have him answer.

The younger man did not disappoint picking up after the second ring.

_Mate, how are you?_

James told him a more redacted version of what he told Jeremy of Spain. Hammond seconded the motion that he go talk with a professional.

_You don’t want those memories running wild in your head mate. Also talking about them out loud decreases their power like putting a limiter on an engine._

Trust Richard to use a car analogy. They both laughed before James once again turned serious, “Jez and I… well we”

 _You’re intimate._ There was pause before Hammond spoke again _Is that not what you wanted?_

James sighed and Richard heard it. James then told him about the conversation they had had over breakfast.

Again Richard asked _Is that not what you want?_

”Yes, I mean No. It was—is what I wanted and still want. I don’t know why I phoned.”

_Well I know you’re not the sort to kiss and tell. Let me guess you’re mulling over the what ifs?_

“I might be.”

_Listen James, really listen. I can tell you that you’re going to be a mess with the “what ifs” since you just been through that fuckery in Spain. I think if you really look at this new facet of your relationship with Jeremy you would realize that it will work. Perhaps that is what’s scaring you James… that it will work._

"Thank you Richard I will make an appointment with someone, any other suggestions?"

_Enjoy yourself_

After James ended the call with Richard he phoned Andy Wilman and expressed his desire to see a counselor. Apparently Andy was one step ahead and had scheduled the whole crew to see the BBC psychiatric staff. James’ appointment was on Monday morning.

The phrase “Enjoy yourself” was rattling around his head. He went back to the garage and tried not to think of the symbolism of his treasured Triumph next to the old red Mercedes. Inside the house he found the kitchen clean, the window over the sink was open to help the smell of frying Spam exit the house.

James could hear water running and knew it was from Jeremy’s bathroom. He climbed the stairs and took the time to remove his clothes and place them in the hamper in his room. He then strode purposefully to the master bedroom then the bathroom. Through the frosted glass of the shower he could see the form of Jeremy. At this moment James knew what he wanted it was just to be with this man. The door slid silently and it was the cool air which alerted Jeremy and he turned to see James.

“Do you mind?” James asked sincerely.

The older man knew what he was seeing was tantamount to a huge leap. He stepped back so James could be underneath the wide swathe of water. He was pleasantly surprised when James moved towards him wrapping his arms around him. Jeremy returned in kind drawing his arms up to return the embrace. James’ face nuzzled against Jeremy’s neck. Jeremy thought James was making up for the lost time of shying out of hugs with the claim that he didn’t like them. 

Jeremy thought this was more satisfying than a quick fuck. James was with him, doing what he wanted, not trying to please anyone but himself and Jeremy was more than willing to indulge him. The water was loud but Jeremy heard James speak, “I’m seeing a counselor on Monday.”

“That’s good” Jeremy said and James felt more than heard the response.

James pushed away from him and Jeremy felt a twinge of fear until he saw that James was reaching for shampoo. He watched in awe as James lathered his long hair. Wanting an excuse to touch him Jeremy grabbed one of the soap sponges and began to clean James. The other man hummed in contentment as Jeremy reached around him and scrubbed his back.

Jeremy couldn’t help himself, “This is my favorite part of you. I love your back, many a night have I spent thinking of it.”

James hummed again and this time it was deeper and Jeremy knew in an instant that James liked being talked to. He moved his lips closer to his ear and told him all the things he wanted to do while moving the sponge across his shoulders and down an arm. The nudging at his hip told Jeremy to keep talking. The steam and heat in the shower combined with filthy gorgeous things Jeremy was saying had James’ head spinning. When a soap slicked hand encircled his erection he cried out. James’ shout went directly to Jeremy’s groin and he too became aroused. James felt Jeremy tense and he brushed his lower body against him. The hiss escaping from the taller man was all the invitation James needed. He pushed up against him their lower halves melding together. Hands splayed against tile while others gripped the hard protrusions of pelvis. Jeremy’s thigh muscles were straining as lowered his elevation to better meet James’ hips. This move was rewarded as James sucked on the bruised flesh he had bitten earlier. Jeremy’s nerves reignited along his shoulder and his mind flashed upon the earlier session on the bed. That memory along with this new one they were making him lose control. However, this time he was determined that James come first. Carefully moving his hand off of James’ hip he gently grasped him. Jeremy heard James shout then whimper as he shuddered. The swaying of James provided enough friction for Jeremy and he too voiced his completion. 

The shower intensified the feeling of relaxation and they were loath to leave but eventually Jeremy slapped off the taps. Fresh white cotton towels were yanked off hooks and Jeremy wanted to laugh and cry as he watched James towel dry his hair and then place the fabric in the hamper. James disappeared to his room to dress and Jeremy did the same. For the rest of the Sunday they stayed apart, Jeremy in his office taking care of some paper work and James in garage messing about with his bike. They came together at random intervals for tea but mostly kept to themselves. This is what Jeremy had missed; the prospect to do things on his own but knowing the other person he loved was near if he suddenly craved their presence. Which turned out to be an hour later when Jeremy stapled his finger.


	9. Wine

It actually took quite a bit longer for the small piece of metal to removed from Jeremy’s finger. James heard screaming and came running. Jeremy had tried pulling the metal out but had only succeeded in snapping it in two. His clumsy fingers couldn’t grasp it and he couldn’t see it due to his declining close vision. James had laughed which earned him a shouted, “Stop laughing,” which only made him laugh more. James quickly found his glasses and a pair of tweezers and removed the silver sliver from Jeremy’s hand. James didn’t know if the whimpers he was hearing were real or exaggerated. “you big baby.” He chided softly

Soon enough the finger was free of metal, washed clean, germolene and sticking plaster applied. Throughout the day James noticed the plaster there was no helping it. Instead of mutely flesh toned plaster it was a Hello Kitty plaster. Apparently it was all they had in the cupboard and another item was added to the shopping list. The comfort between them was still there but when the night wound down there was a tension. They got ready for bed in separate bathrooms and James found himself in his room. He was unsure what the procedure was. Was he welcome in Jeremy’s bed? Was he to stay here? A knocking on the doorjamb had him turning.

Jeremy cocked his head to side wordlessly and James huffed a breath. The invitation was clear. Jeremy pointed to the side of the bed he wanted and James took the other. “Lets see how long this lasts” Jeremy muttered. At his words James stiffened and Jeremy quickly added. “You snore mate. I might be sleeping in the guest room.” The other man relaxed and realized that Jeremy just referred to his room as the guest room. 

The night passed in fits and starts. Jeremy was unwilling to leave the comfort and warmth of his bed so he employed his foot to nudge James to turn on his side to still the snoring. Come morning coffee was generously poured into large mugs. Jeremy was appreciatively staring at James who was dressed in his full riding leathers. The biker was going to ride to the main office to see the counselor do whatever else Andy wanted and then ride to Hammersmith.

Jeremy set off first in his Mercedes and dutifully checked his rearview mirror to check to make sure James was behind. The drive allowed both men to think. Jeremy listened to the news and remembered that tomorrow his children would be arriving back in the country. 

Upon reaching the main offices they parked and entered the building. The security guard quickly approached James since he had forgotten to remove his helmet. When his identity was quickly ascertained the guard shrank back. James removed his leathers and put on his spare set of shoes and jumper. He was nervous about his appointment. The BBC employed one psychiatrist along with a nurse for injuries. James quickly found the office on the directory but spent nearly half an hour finding it in the building. The office was small and central there were no windows. The humming from the fluorescent bulbs was giving him a headache but he stayed until an older woman came forth and called his name.

“Mr. May, I’m Dr. Geraldine Creed, everyone calls me Geri, please come in and have a seat.”

James sat and watched a she opened a folder. She sat quietly, smiled, but said nothing. Sweat began to form on his lip and he fidgeted. He finally broke the silence, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Lets talk.” The doctor answered cheerily

“You want to talk about Spain.” James delivered flatly.

“Only if you wish.” Creed replied.

James expelled a shaky breath this was already becoming frustrating. Creed looked at him thoughtfully, “You asked to see me. We can talk about whatever you want. You need to feel comfortable and obviously you aren’t.”

”What do you know about OCD?” James asked off hand. “Jeremy says I have that.” 

”OCD is about control, thinking that performing a ritual or compulsion will grant you control over a situation. Human beings crave control we can’t imagine life without it.” 

James scoffed, “Well that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Dr. Creed inhaled then asked. “What scared you more, the bombing? Or having someone else take care of you?”

Slowly James told her about the past 18 months about how he had practically moved in with the Clarkson’s following the deaths of Jeremy’s parents and wife. From that point he dove back into the past discussing his upbringing. He told her of the new found sexual relationship he had formed and Hammond’s insight on it.

Creed had placed the folder on the floor, “ You seem to have some issues with control which isn’t a bad thing but could become one. I can help you learn techniques to better cope; I think you should see me again. Next week same time?

James nodded and Creed stood to lead him to the door.

After his appointment he found Andy who told him to go home. Instead of finding Jeremy he decided against it. He rode back to his house in Hammersmith. His key fit in the lock but he had the odd feeling that he was a stranger in this place yet here his things were. Clothes in the closest, his telly in the front room, beloved toys scattered about, books on the shelf…this was his house yet it felt foreign as if he was visiting the house he grew up in. 

The conversation with Dr. Creed was on his mind. Did he truly have OCD? It wasn’t the relationship that gave James pause it was the fact that Jeremy had thought of it and _had_ and _would_ taken care of him. Despite all his phobias, quirks and snoring Jeremy loved him. His mind was made up and he went to his bedroom.

Jeremy heard the jingling of keys and smiled. The door opened wide and James stepped inside and Jeremy heard a soft thud he got up from his seat and moved towards him. The longhaired man was quickly wrapped up in what seemed like miles of arms. He spoke against Jeremy’s chest, “kids are coming back tomorrow.”

“That’s right.”

“What time?”

“Two o’clock” Jeremy said inhaling the scent of shampoo and leather.

”Think they’ll eat fish pie?” James murmured. 

Jeremy’s arms tightened and he chuckled. “I always tell them that its windmill pudding for dinner…if it goes around they’ll get some.”

James barked his laughter and Jeremy felt lighter. James pushed him, “I need a slash.” Jeremy released him so he could go to the toilet. He waited until James was finished; when he came out of the bathroom he grabbed his bag and climbed the stairs. Jeremy watched as James moved threw his bag into Jeremy’s room. The lightness intensified he looked down to make sure he wasn’t floating. 

“I’m going to have a gander at your pantry see what else we need.” James announced.

“I’ll be up here” Jeremy said and James touched his forearm before heading downstairs.

Jeremy went to the guest bedroom and stood in front of the wardrobe. He opened it and was greeted with floral patterns and bright colours. With reverent care he removed the clothes from the hangar. He remembered the last time he did this, he cried over silk shirts and black dresses. This time he was determined not to cry. However, when he placed the first hangar on the rail of the empty side of the walk-in wardrobe he found his cheeks wet. He happily wiped them away; soon all the clothes from the wardrobe and duffel were ensconced in the joint space.

“Hey Jez do you want a glass of white?” Came the bellow from downstairs.

“Yes!” he bellowed back.

Jeremy stomped downstairs in glee and happily swiped up the glass James had poured for him. “Cheers” they whispered to one another as they toasted each other on their new life.


End file.
